Born Wicked

XVIII

She slipped in seconds before the bell. Julian, Tristan and I sat together all lunch hour and now, in English, waiting for her. She sits as far away from us as she could get in the back corner of class. The bell rings and Julian does his best to try and catch her, but she's quick. Books clutched to her chest, she's already gone.

Study period. I made the football team, so with my athletic requirement fulfilled, I don't have gym anymore. I follow Julian and Tristan and we spend the entire hour searching the school for her.

"She must be in the bathroom," Tristan says as we make our third tour of the library. Julian scowls but doesn't say anything.

"Who do you think did it?" I ask.

Tristan lifts a shoulder and eyes Julian thoughtfully. "I don't know, but do you think..?"

Julian whirls on him, his face darkening with his frustration. "I'll kill him if he did."

I set my jaw. "Shane?"

Julian looks murderous and Tristan nods, "Makes the most sense."

"I'll kill him." Julian growls again.

I can't say I disagree. I don't like Shane anyway, but if he's who hurt Jayme-Lynn then he needs his ass kicked.

Art class is my last period. When I get to class, Jayme-Lynn isn't there. Again, seconds before the bell she dashes in and sits off to the side of the class at an empty table. I brought my sketch pad to class today, and the last few pages are all filled with sketches of a certain girl. I pick up a piece of charcoal, flip the page and start another one.

You could say I'm obsessed. Almond eyes begin to take shape on the blank paper. A fringe of black lashes. The eyes are sad. Hair pulled up, slender neck and shoulders, gently sloping cheeks. I darken the edges, and there along the sides of the neck are dark smudges. Bruises. Anger rips through me and I flip the page.

I start again. This time, long hair cascading in waves down a narrow back. I sketch her as I see her now in class. She's beautiful.

I spend my hour this way, working on this new sketch. The bell rings. She's gone. I sigh, pack up my things and head upstairs to my locker.

I don't see her. I shake my head. I wonder if she got my note earlier. She didn't say anything, but given the way the day has gone, it's understandable. I'm disappointed, but I wish she would have just talked to me. Not about her plans, or dinner. I really just want to know if she's okay. I slip into my coat and grab my bag and it lands on the toe of my boot.

A folded piece of paper. I scoop it up and open it. A slow smile spreads on my face. She said yes. She's free tonight. And I have her number.

I'm happier than I've been since lunch.

I'm exhausted. I've been in Ethan's head all afternoon, non-stop. The one good thing about that, is it made it really easy to stay a step ahead of him and Julian. They tried to find me, not knowing that I followed them the whole time, so to speak. I went wherever they weren't. Slipped into class in the last possible seconds. And after Art, I fled. I mean literally, I ran.

My mind is filled with the images of his sketches. Images. I'd say that it was weird, but I'm not an expert on the subject. Had you asked me three or four days ago if I thought I could ever read minds, I'd have laughed at you. Now, it seems, I can. Maybe I saw the sketches because it was Art class. Like, Ethan had to think in images, so I saw images? I don't know. They were beautiful.